


The One Where Solas Fucks The Anchor

by SeriousMoonlight



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dream Sex, Non-Binary Inquisitor, Other, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeriousMoonlight/pseuds/SeriousMoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"You really are very imaginative. Is this something you've thought about Solas doing to you before?"</p>
  <p>"What, <i>fucking my glowing rift hand</i>?! No, I fucking haven't!"</p>
</blockquote>Oz Trevelyan has a weird Fade hand, an overactive imagination, and an enormous crush on a certain elf apostate.
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Solas Fucks The Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> can't make an omelette without fucking a few eggs

Oz wasn't sure how they'd ended up in this situation - this situation being making out against a wall with the dorky (yet oddly charming) elf apostate they'd had a crush on for months. But they certainly weren't going to _question_ it.

"Solas," they whimpered into his mouth, their ragged, harsh voice still full of disbelief. Because Solas didn't like humans, probably, maybe? Because when Oz thought they couldn't have been any bolder with him, couldn't have made the way they wanted him any more embarrassingly obvious, Solas smiled politely and everything seemed to sail right over his bald head. And now he was grinding his dick against Oz as he worked at the buttons on their shirt.

Well. Okay.

_If this is a dream, **please** don't let me wake up yet._

Pushing him away slightly, Oz fumbled out of their top, yanking it off overhead with... not as much grace as they would have liked. Solas was on them again, hands running up their flat chest, mouth pressed against their neck, whispering things in...

...Elvish? It was so hard to make out the words. But Solas was talking with his breath hot against their skin, and Oz loved the cadence of his voice so much that he could have just been rattling off types of vegetables commonly used in Orlesian soups and it still would have been intensely erotic. Suddenly his leg was between Oz's thighs and his fingertips were running across their nipples and oh, hell, his fucking tongue drew a line up their neck -

"Solas," Oz gasped, "fuck, let's at least get to my bed before you make me come in my nice new pants, alright?"

And they were on the four poster bed, which Oz was fairly certain hadn't been this large and spacious when they...

...had gone to sleep.

"FUCK," Oz practically wailed, putting their hands over their face, "this _is_ a fucking dream!"

"The least you can do is enjoy it, Inquisitor," Dream-Solas said.

" _You_ shut up," Oz demanded, removing a hand from their face to angrily jab a finger at him. "This is gonna be fucking awkward when I have to see the real one tomorrow."

"You're aware _your_ mind is responsible for all of this, yes?" Solas laughed, taking their left hand in his. Maker, his fingers. They were so slender and dextrous and Oz lost count of the amount of times they'd practically eye-fucked him when he was just idly holding his staff. "You've been having dreams about him taking you almost every night, in fact. You have quite the imagination, dear Inquisitor."

The small moan that escaped Oz's mouth was unintentional, and made the dream Solas laugh again. Oz glared, trying to will themself to stare daggers at him with their bright green eyes, but it ended up coming across as pitiful frowning.

"Such a beautiful shade of green. Appropriate how it matches the rifts." He kissed the palm of their hand and the rift mark sparked to life, crackling and humming with mysterious magic. Oz whimpered again, hips flexing on their own. Solas smirked.

His tongue flicked out against the mark and it prompted an actual gasp from the human mage, who looked at him with a bewildered expression. "I... what? What?! Why does _that_ feel good?" Oz stammered.

"Dream, remember?"

Oz was on the verge of spitting out more curses when Solas did that _thing_ with his tongue again and what came out of their mouth was more like "Fuck offfffhhhaaaahhhhhh oh sweet Maker don't stop".

Solas used his free hand to grab a fistful of Oz's short red hair, using it to pull them up into a sitting position on the bed next to him. Their faces were close, so close, and Oz wanted to kiss him again but his tongue was... _inside_ their hand, inside the mark. Even though that was fucking impossible. He maintained eye contact as he swirled it around, breathing hard, the look on his face almost predatory as he kept Oz's hair gripped taut in his fist. For their part, Oz couldn't do much more than pitifully whimper because _what the fuck_? This was the weirdest dream they'd ever had and it was so hot and it was so wrong. Solas was tongue-fucking their _hand_ and instead of shrieking and forcing themself to wake up, Oz was writhing around trying to hold back an orgasm.

They did not succeed. Oz came while looking into Solas's eyes, wetness pooling between their legs (at least it was a dream, because otherwise they would have been pissed about ruining those pants) while they cried out and pitched forward, head resting on Solas's shoulder.

The dream didn't give them time to recover. Oz didn't even remember moving, but they were on their knees in front of Solas as he sat on the edge of the bed, and his pants had been pulled down and his cock was -

"You've got to be kidding me."

Solas guided their left hand toward his erection.

"Again - your mind is the guilty party here, Inquisitor," Dream-Solas said, clearly bemused at Oz's panicked reaction to discovering one of the top five weirdest kinks in Thedas. "You really are very imaginative. Is this something you've thought about Solas doing to you before?"

"What, _fucking my glowing rift hand_?! No, I fucking haven't!"

"But you often imagine yourself on your knees for him," the dream said, and Oz had no response. "You wonder what it would be like if he let you worship him. If you could see him lose that composure, break his self-control for once." His eyes glittered. Oz bit the inside of their lip and wrapped their hand around his cock. Solas covered their hand with his own, moving them together.

The rift mark glowed against his skin, and the head of his cock sunk into it and Oz moaned, the nails on their free hand digging into Solas's thigh.

"Maker, that should _not_ feel good," they said through gritted teeth. Solas moved his hips ever so slightly and Oz moaned again. It felt like their entire arm was on fire, every nerve ending too sensitive and hot and practically vibrating with magic. He pushed their hand down further and Oz's eyes practically rolled back into their head as they panted. It was so much, it was too much, and Andraste's tits, he was fucking their hand and it was so confusing and weird and how did it feel this good? Where was his dick even _going_?!

"Dreams, _ma vhenan_ ," Solas whispered in Oz's ear, and if the goddamn rift handjob (riftjob?) going on hadn't been enough of a signal that this was a dream, the fact that he was using elven terms of endearment on a human would have done it. Oz pressed their hand down further, down to the base of Solas's cock and whimpered as he ground his hips upwards against their palm. The look in his eyes, the way he looked at them with a face that seemed so proud and above them, how it made Oz feel like they were just something to be played with at his feet... Oz knew they wouldn't last long.

"Solas, please," Oz cried, legs shaking, cheeks flushing red as their hair. Solas held their chin with one hand, fixing his gaze on them again.

"You want him to make you beg," he said, in a casually amused tone that made them feel helpless. Oz nodded desperately. "You want him to use you and then discard you if he wants. You'd give anything to him if he asked, but you don't want him to ask." The hand on their chin moved to grab their hair again and Oz gasped. "You want him to demand."

"Yes," the human whimpered, the friction and heat in their hand making them dizzy. They were so close to the edge again, hips grinding, trying to find any friction they could against the leather of their pants, and then Oz woke up clutching the blankets and covered in sweat with disgustingly wet sheets beneath them.

"Are you _KIDDING ME_ ," they screamed into a pillow, slamming their fists on the mattress.

  


### 

  


When Solas casually asked if they slept well at breakfast, no one was sure why the Inquisitor turned such a bright shade of red. And no one really knew why Oz had been taking the longest route imaginable to get to the library, practically looping around Skyhold just to avoid the little alcove where Solas spent most of his time.

Well. _Almost_ no one knew.

"Do you really want Solas to do that to the mark on your hand?" Cole asked out of nowhere over a game of Wicked Grace at the tavern one day, in front of Varric, Dorian, and Iron Bull, and after a moment of silence when his meaning clicked in Oz's mind the Inquisitor leapt up from the table and bolted shrieking across the ramparts.

"Trevelyan!" Varric called after them through tears of laughter. 

"I'M GONNA THROW MYSELF OFF THE PARAPETS," they screamed back.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Writing third person stories about characters who use "they" pronouns makes me want to hit my head against walls  
> 2) Shout out to this amazing [Dangan Ronpa 2 fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/987527) for the title inspiration  
> 3) Maker forgive me for my sins. I cannot explain this. I am so sorry. Goodbye


End file.
